The Gre-Bella
by EquinusPrime
Summary: This is basically the same story from earlier, the homework assignment from last semester called "Alien Object." This version, however, is the 'Radical Revision' where we completely re-wrote the story. I knew immediately what I wanted to do -and this was the result. I hope it gives folks a few laughs.


**Alien Object Description: Radical Revision**

**The Gre-bella**

Star Date -315485.1373033994

(July 7, 2007, Time: 22:11:49)

Prime's Log, supplemental.

**O**ur long exodus through the stars is nearing its end. For millions of vorns we have drifted across the universe, crossing nebulae and racing comets all to locate our only hope of preserving our race; the All Spark. Born in the death throws of my sister, Solus Prime, it became the source of all Cybertronian life. Without its energies feeding our Birthing Wells, there would be no Cybertronian young. Without the All Spark our race is lost.

But there is hope. Nearly ten and a half vorns ago we detected its signal within an unknown corner of the Orion Arm of our native galaxy. It was weak. We nearly missed its transmission coordinates. And, when we did lock on to its trajectory the signal vanished. We feared the worst, but I refuse to believe it is destroyed. The survival of our race depends on the success of this mission. It is the very reason so many of our race, my Autobots, escaped Cybertron in the first place. That, and to procure new energy sources so as not to deplete our world so rapidly in the future. And succeed we shall in both regards. Failure is not an option.

Nevertheless, once we arrived at the origin point of the transmission, we found ourselves in a small yet wonderous solar system. The native star, a small white sun, is very much like our own. Its warmth and power has given life to eight magnificent worlds of various sizes and orbits. The most magnificent of which are the gas giants; one encircled with beautiful rings of ice and rock, and the other with a peculiar red storm nearly at its center. Between this massive world and the smaller inner worlds is a vast asteroid belt. My science officer Perceptor hypothesizes it may be the remains of interstellar collisions even more ancient than we. Such a thing is not impossible.

However, these gas giants were not the source of my interest, nor are they the only gas giants I have seen. Rather, I have felt the Matrix of Leadership, which I carry within me, pulsing with what I can only describe as excitement. I feel drawn to a small organic planet, the third from its sun. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker, our resident pilot and navigator, have been able to plot a course to this world after calculating the All Sparks possible trajectory after its last received transmission, however they have also plotted other possible courses. I selected this course, this strange organic world. I believe the All Spark has fallen here though many of the others do not. They do not dare too. Far too often have we landed on an alien planet only to discover the All Spark has eluded us again.

Only now has the Matrix within me pulsed with an assurity that we have reached the end of our long journey. Now, we gaze on this little world strangely reminiscent of our own. It is dominated by massive seas and vast inhabitable continents, all of which teems with unimaginable quantities of life. I feel deep within my spark that something significant awaits us there, and it may be the All Spark. Even if it is not, I feel impressed to investigate this world, though our presence must remain secret lest we inadvertently cause mass hysteria among the native populations. And I will not be responsible for the loss of innocent life due to sheer negligence.

Even so, there is much about this world we need to understand before we attempt to land. If there is a possible landing site, or crash site in a worst-case scenario for the All Spark, we must find it and pray it has not been compromised. For the sake of caution, and per suggestion from Perceptor, thirteen separate drones will be launched within the next seven orn to scan and observe the planet for any signs of the All Spark and to learn as much as we can of its people before we attempt to land. It is not yet determined if we shall attempt any form of contact, as well. I hope to learn a great deal of this world through these scans. If the All Spark did land here, perhaps there are markers, legends shared through this world's culture which could lead us to where we need to go. And hopefully soon. Time grows short. I feel the presence of Megatron growing ever stronger and I know we cannot maintain this lead we have gained over him and his Decepticons much longer. I merely hope we can secure the All Spark, learn of any potential resources which we may procure for Cybertron and depart before he arrives.

But then what? Knowing what he is capable of, can I in good conscience contradict myself and abandon this world to his vile hand? He would ruin this world, whether it be through enslaving the races of this world to mine for him whatever precious resources there are, or destroying them entirely. I will not allow myself or my people such negligence and apathy. We cannot hope that Megatron would abandon this world should he fail to procure for himself resources or the All Spark itself. I know him too well. I have seen the effects of his warmongering on other worlds, and I will not allow the same evil to befall the people of this world. I could never again call myself Prime if I did. I would have fallen as has Megatron.

Star Date -315467.37912227283

(July 14, 2007, Time: 09:45:32)

Prime's Log, Supplemental

These past seven orn have yielded an astounding amount of information. All initial scans have taught us a great deal about the creatures of this world, and its diversity is nearly infinite. Such a beautiful planet is this little world called Earth. Not even Cybertron has gleamed with the light and color that exists here, and though I am familiar with plant life through my interactions with similar worlds, this world is indeed unique. There is a presence here I cannot describe and the Matrix pulses more intensely as the orns pass.

I wonder what it is Primus is leading us to? Does the All Spark indeed rest here as we so desperately hope? Or is it something else entirely? Whatever the case may be, I am eager to set my peds in this world's soil and scent its winds. I have developed a fondness for the softness of these organic worlds. A part of me hopes to take some of this gentleness back to Cybertron with us – if we survive.

The native peoples of this world call themselves human, or homo sapiens, and they exist in an impressive array of genetic and cultural diversities much like ourselves. Their technological advancements are impressive for such a primitive race and I find myself drawn to their sense of community, their awareness of self and their drive to build a better world for all. Yet there is a dark side to this world. There is division within communities. Violence in the streets. It is too much like Cybertron before the Great War that destroyed our world. I pray with all my spark that the peoples of this world do not suffer the loss of their homes and communities as we have. Such things can never be replaced.

Nevertheless, the true purpose of our search continues to elude us. The All Spark is nowhere to be found on this world. Frustration has taken root in our sparks and some of my Autobots have begun to believe we shall never find it. There is no trace of its signature and it is most distressing. There is no evidence to indicate the All Spark has even landed here, and yet the Matrix burns with an urgency I cannot explain. It is almost painful when I begin to consider heeding the council of my fellow officers in abandoning this world and searching elsewhere. There is something here Primus wants me to find, and I will remain until I find it, even if it should be nothing more than protecting this world from Megatron's evil, no matter the cost.

Thus, after counseling with my fellow Autobots, we intend to make landfall on the eve of the our third orn in orbit. We have engaged cloaking shields to hide our presence, but hiding the Ark for any prolonged period will be difficult, thus we must chose a strategic location from which we can depart and return quickly, hopefully without incident. I know not what we may learn on this world, but I look forward to it, and pray that my Autobots may also find something worthwhile here. This is the adventure of a lifetime – even if our reasons for being here were to save our world and its people from death.

-315457.9042047185

July 17, 2007, Time: 20:45:32

Prime's Log; Supplemental

It is beginning. We have located a place on Earth where we can land and begin our investigations. Jazz has assembled a team and await me in the hangar where we shall embark in a small drop ship to make planet fall. I have left strict orders not to engage the natives unless absolutely necessary. A time may yet come when we will need allies on this world, but as of now, we must learn what we can of this new world and chose carefully whom we shall reveal ourselves too.

And there is yet another conundrum. Our alt-modes do not match the construction of this world's vehicles, primitive machines the humans use to travel to various destinations. These machines are non-sentient, unfeeling, yet I realize we must adapt similar disguises so as not to arouse suspicion or fear. The vid files provided by Perceptor have revealed that the human race is rather skittish. Thus we shall land in a forested area of what we have learned is the North American Continent, specifically an area within a park called Yellowstone. I pray there shall be no incidents.

End Log.

The blueish-green screen fell dark, and a great being forged of metals vented a mechanical sigh as he stood from his desk and turned to the windows behind him. His thick, armored plating glistened dully with reflected light from the bright blue planet outside, and the small desk light at his right. Once upon a time, his red and blue plating had been bright and pure. Now his plating was scarred and dented, filthy with millions of years of carbon scoring, spilt energon and the dust of hundreds of worlds.

He was tired of fighting. Bright blue optics were dimmed with exhaustion and sorrow. His movements still held grace and power, a certain swagger that his mate had surely appreciated. Yet now that swagger was all but gone. He tried hard to keep up his spirits for the sake of his Autobots, but there were orns when it was terribly hard. He missed the life he'd had before, when he had been Orion Pax. Cataloging the data that crossed the Hub had often been monotonous but it had often been exciting, too. Yet, he had always felt like there was something missing. That he wasn't reaching his full potential.

Worse, he missed his mate. He missed the scent of her, the touch of her hand and even her gentle kisses and the warm sultry tenor of her voice. Curse this war! How he yearned to hold her in his arms again, his beloved Elita One.

He turned his head slightly at the sound of a chime. "Yes?" he called lightly, his deep voice carrying well.

The door slid open and Jazz stepped in, his blue visor glowing brightly in his leader's darkened office. "It's time, Prime. Everyone's assembled and ready to go. Perceptor will remain on the bridge but Hound will be going along. His holograms may come in handy."

"Agreed, though I had hoped Perceptor would join us," he said and pressed a button in a side panel on his desk. The light thereon extinguished itself as he walked towards his second in command, his powerful frame highlighted by the planet outside. "Let us go, then."

Jazz stepped aside with a small respectful bow as his leader, Optimus Prime, exited his office. He followed a second after, leaving the office door to hiss closed behind him.

The walk to the hangar was long and quiet, but hardly dull. There were well over four hundred Autobot warriors, engineers and maintenance workers on board and few barely paused to regard them as they worked. Those who did received a grateful nod from their Prime and a friendly wave from Jazz. They waited until the duo had passed before returning to their duties, always aware that their Prime saw everything that they did and did not do.

Optimus himself was oddly quiet. He always had been in a way, and while this was not the tense silence of one expecting battle, he was still tense. But with excitement. The archivist within him could barely hold itself in check knowing he was about to set foot on yet another world. How many of his fellow archivists had been able to claim the same? How many had even survived the war?

He put the thought out of his processor as he entered the hangar and spied the small team Jazz had assembled, including the aforementioned Hound. Other than Jazz and Hound, it consisted of the young scout, Bumblebee, the twins Sideswipe and Sunstreaker, Ironhide, Prowl and one of the few femmes among their company, Arcee. Her pink armor was in stark contrast to the rowdy mechs she served with, but she held herself well and they respected her.

Trailbreaker and Wheeljack were also among their company, as was Ratchet, their chief medical officer. He, like Ironhide, refused to let Optimus out of his sight. He had stubbornly taken upon himself an almost fatherly concern for the younger mech. Of course, he maintained that same mentality with all the mecha aboard the Ark, but he and Optimus had been friends for a long time. Even so, that made for eleven mecha. A larger force than they needed but they didn't know what to expect on the Earths' surface or what they might find.

Before he had entered, each Autobot had engaged themselves with pre-flight duties until now. He had heard Ironhide's unique drawl barking orders beyond the armored doors before they opened and allowed himself a small grin behind his battle mask, especially as his proud warriors quickly assembled themselves in a line at his approach. Poor Bumblebee got his left ped stuck in some equipment and toppled over, eliciting a wince from several of the gathered Autobots, and a chortle from the twins.

Far from being perturbed, Optimus paused to help Bumblebee stand and disentangled the equipment from his ped. The young scout muttered a quiet, embarrassed apology as Optimus patted his back, offering a small wink, and then stood to face the gathered warriors. Most had come from humble backgrounds. Until the war few had ever held a weapon, punched another mech in the face and even fewer had killed before. And yet, they stood resolute before him, the faces of ordinary mecha brought together for the survival of not only themselves and their family units, but for their world. They were as scarred and world-weary as he was, but their courage and determination to serve endeared him to them all the more. He was determined to lead well, to succeed in this most important mission, for all their sakes.

"Autobots," he called to them, "thank you for volunteering for this mission. I do not need to remind you that extreme care must be taken as we make planetfall. Do not engage the natives unless absolutely necessary. We are to follow the trail laid out by Teletran-One and the Matrix of Leadership. We may find nothing, but we must keep searching. If the All Spark is indeed upon this planet, we will find it."

"And if it isn't?" Trailbreaker asked, black metal plating shifting nervously as he asked the question he knew everyone else held in their sparks.

"We will continue the search after we have ensured this world will not come to harm," Optimus told them firmly. "I know that we are few in number and I know that you are wary, but Primus has made it clear to me that we are to remain until the All Spark is recovered or Megatron's threat is nullified. Neither he nor I will allow another world to suffer Decepticon tyranny. Understood?"

Sideswipe's shoulders sagged. "With all due respect, Prime, this world is none of our concern. Why can't we just snag the All Spark and go?"

"Because should Megatron discover this world, he will not leave it alone," Optimus answered gravely. "We have seen his vile hand reek destruction on other worlds, including our own. I will not allow that to happen again and neither should you. We are Autobots, not Decepticons. We will defend life, honor justice and do mercy. Whatever may happen hereafter I expect you all to act respectfully and kindly to any natives we may meet. One day, they may prove powerful allies. Do you understand?"

No one dared argue, even if they didn't agree. They couldn't afford a drawn out argument and deep in their sparks they knew Optimus was right. Megatron was dangerous and no one deserved to suffer his tyrannical hand. No one.

"Good. Autobots, board the drop ship and prepare to take off."

The Autobots saluted their leader and then filed inside the small ship.

It wasn't long after that the small drop ship disembarked from the much larger Ark and sailed towards the planet. It was much smaller than Cybertron but even those who were not exactly happy about being here had to admire its simple beauty. A powerful atmosphere protected the planet from the harmful but life-giving rays of the sun, creating winds that helped the Earth breathe and maintain survivable temperatures. Blue skies created by a powerful, protective atmosphere created winds that helped the earth breathe and maintain livable temperatures. Clouds covered much of the world bringing rain and nourishment to the forests, deserts and seas. Great mountains jutted from the planet's surface and vast plains stretched as far as the optic could see. It was beautiful.

The small drop ship banked for an area in the western hemisphere of the North American Continent where wisps of smoke and steam rose from pools of boiling mud and water. Scans told them the area was both safe to walk across and dangerous. The boiling water might not kill them but any organic creature foolish enough to jump into it would certainly be boiled alive. There were noxious gases they would have to be careful with, however, as well as wildlife and a few scattered settlements.

They passed a large space station of extreme primitive design but admired the human's tenacity for building it. They held on to their seats, each glimpsing his comrade to see if the other was as nervous as he was. Only Optimus and Arcee looked less concerned with re-entry than the other Autobots. They stared resolutely ahead as the harsh orange glow of the atmosphere's protective heat slowly gave way to the cold buffeting winds of the upper atmosphere. Within minutes the worst of the turbulence passed, and they were sailing smoothly towards the area of forest they had chosen for their landing sight.

It was night here. They engaged anti-gravity systems to minimize the roar of the drop ship's powerful engines and shut off all exterior lighting. The cloaking shield also helped to reduce noise and friction as they traveled. There were no streetlights here, no markers, just open wilderness. It was both beautiful and frightening. If they were not careful they could get lost or worse, start an unneeded panic amongst the locals.

Sideswipe landed the ship in a small clearing at least a mile or so out from a strange geothermal spring system. Aerial observations indicated a settlement of some form just east of the springs and stretched approximately five to eight miles in diameter north, east and south. This late in the evening there were almost no vehicles on the road. In fact, the roads were almost desolate. The humans who either lived in the area or visited the settlement were already settling in for the night. The cover of darkness would disguise them for a time, at least until they could find themselves a few solid Earth-based vehicle modes.

As the engines shut down and power systems were re-routed to stand-by, the Autobots disembarked. A quick scan of the area confirmed no human activity, though native wildlife was another matter. Even so, the Autobots took defensive positions as the gangplank slowly dropped open and then they filed out one by one, each taking a strategic position on either side of the gangplank, weapons drawn and ready just in case. They had been at war far too long to take chances, and with the last living Prime on board they were doubly cautious.

Within minutes all Autobots stood in a line outside of the ship highlighted by the interior lightning. Each stepped on the rocky, dusty ground lightly. Even after visiting so many worlds like this one the dust and shifting pebbles of organic worlds always felt strange beneath their peds. When it shifted enough, they shifted with it. One Autobot had been unlucky enough to fall on his own aft and slide down a steep mountainside until another Autobot had stopped his fall. This area, however, was predominantly covered in grass with few rocks for them to slip on. It rolled and dipped as the area was predominantly mountainous, but this spot was flat enough for the drop ship to safely land, and just a short distance away were trees which could offer them a little cover. Not a lot, especially during the bright hours of day, but enough for them to find their way.

Each pair of shimmering optics regarded their leader as he stood before them, pacing lightly as he observed their surroundings and matched them with the aerial scans. Jazz and Ironhide stood not far off, both with weapons drawn as they too regarded their leader. They followed his gaze a little north where the trees seemed to form a natural path leading down into a small ravine which in turn led to a small creak, a thread of liquid to them really. From there it was nearly a mile walk, if not more, to the small settlement they had observed from the air. It opened straightway to a small dwelling sheltered by large trees, the size of which dwarfed even Optimus. Most of the trees here seemed taller than their mighty leader, who stood at an impressive thirty-five feet.

"We need to begin," he muttered gravely, and they stood a little straighter once they knew he had settled on a plan of action. "Trailbreaker, have you ensured the drop ship will remain operational until we return?"

A curt nod. "Yessir. All systems are go and in proper standby mode."

"Excellent. Ratchet, do you have all the equipment you need if there should be any medical emergencies?"

"As much as I can carry, Optimus," Ratchet replied.

"Do you really think we'll need all that medical care?" Bumblebee wondered.

"Possibly not," Optimus admitted as he strode towards the opening in the trees. "But I will not take chances. Autobots! Transform and roll out!"

With a whirring and churning of gears and pistons and a clanking of armor, the Autobots transformed into their alt-modes and followed their Prime in what seemed like a fruitless search. Hound kept his radar tuned to anything that could pin-point the All Spark Pod, or anything that had been connected to it. And as they came to the opening in the trees, which almost formed an elongated and distorted "L," they paused before cautiously pushing their way through. For some it was a tighter squeeze than anticipated, like Optimus.

For several minutes the Autobots rolled in neutral through the trees, carefully avoiding the bark so it did not scratch their armor. Or at least Sunstreaker did. And when a branch did scratch his precious paint job, he let out a soft cry of expletives. Optimus hushed him immediately, but things only got worse. The trees were starting to crowd in on them the farther they drove, which elicited more complaints from Sunstreaker and even the other Autobots.

"Well, this ain't good," muttered Jazz as he transformed and looked around at the trees. "Getting a little crowded. Alright, everybody, transform. We're going to have to go the rest of the way on foot."

"Exactly where are we going anyway?" Sideswipe griped as he pulled a broken branch of a nearby pine from the joints in his hip plates.

"Yeah, it feels like we're wasting time wandering around," his brother agreed, mournfully scratching at the chipped paint on his arm.

"No, we're not," Hound argued, face plates contorted with concentration as his radar cone homed in on something in the small ravine before them. "I'm getting something. Not much but it could be a clue to the All Spark."

Optimus vented a quiet sigh of relief. "Lead the way, old friend."

The green mech did so. "Follow me, everybody. But watch your step. It's a bit steep here. And rocky."

"Joy," muttered Sunstreaker.

Despite his complaining, Sunstreaker and the Autobots did as told, using the natural indicator lights along their torsos to see by. And when that didn't work, they utilized night vision capabilities in their optics. There was an occasional grunt as an Autobot or two was wacked in the face plates by a branch carelessly released by one of his fellows, but they were all careful to keep their muttering as quiet as possible. The only shout came from Bumblebee when the ground beneath his peds collapsed under his weight nearly spilling him down the steep hillside.

"Hang on buddy, I got ya," Jazz said, snatching his hand before the smaller Autobot could fall any farther.

"Thanks Jazz," Bumblebee sighed and was able to reassert his footing before continuing his descent.

It wasn't long before the Autobots had gathered in a small circle at the bottom of the ravine. Some were still standing on the hillside and a few had climbed onto the opposite hillside, so they didn't crowd each other out in the small space. A small stream piddled along beneath them, almost splitting the ravine clean in half, but no Autobot regarded it. They instead focused on Hound whose radar cone moved to and fro over his right shoulder as it searched for the signal he had detected earlier. He took a few steps forward and then turned this way and that before taking a few more steps. Every Autobot stood as still as the mountain around them, too afraid to move. The All Spark was their life giver. If it was lost . . .

Hound turned slightly and gestured for them to follow him but said not a word. Instead he signaled for utter silence.

They were heading straight for the settlement.

Optimus crouched as he walked, fully aware that his impressive height would make him the easiest to spot. In fact, Hound, Ironhide, Ratchet and Wheeljack would all be particularly visible. So too would Sideswipe and Sunstreaker, which prompted a small change in plans.

"Hound, we're getting too close to the settlement," Optimus announced quietly, and everyone turned to him. "Scan the surrounding terrain and give us some cover. And everyone stay quiet. The holograms only offer us so much protection."

"Right away, Prime," Hound said and climbed the nearby hill enough to get a good scan of the area before climbing back down and activating the hologram. The Autobots themselves saw nothing. The holographic field extended beyond them affecting those staring in form the outside.

"Forward, Autobots," Optimus commanded, and they moved on in single file for a few more minutes until Hound paused again.

"Whatcha got, pal?" Wheeljack wondered as he stepped up beside the green mech.

"It's almost hard to believe," Hound replied, kneeling to get a better look. "Whatever it is I'm detecting is practically in the hillside behind this dwelling. Not too big, either but it's sure giving off a nice ping."

"Get in there and get it out," Optimus ordered, glancing nervously at the sky. "This planet's orbit around its native star is shorter than Cybertron's. It will be lawn in less than a few joors. Readjust your hologram to protect yourself and Wheeljack and dig for whatever it is you have found. The rest of will hide in the trees as best we can and provide cover fire if it should be necessary."

"Good luck you two, and dig fast," Jazz griped and turned back the way he came. The Autobots followed him one at a time. Optimus leaned against the hillside to let them pass and waited to join them until he was sure Hound and Wheeljack would be alright.

Hound and Wheeljack worked tirelessly to dig up whatever the old scout had found. He had helped mentor Bumblebee alongside Optimus, but Bumblebee did not have the same capabilities that he did; just raw grit and determination, which he admired. He glanced up every few minutes to make sure no one was coming. Everything was still and quiet. He shook his hands often, unused to the feel of moist earth as it collected between his digits. He could feel the grit in each joint and cringed. That was going to be hard to get out.

A sliver of light appeared on the horizon by the time the hole was at least ten feet wide. No wonder the signal had been so weak. Whatever they were digging up was several feet down.

"Hey! I think I hit something!" Wheeljack announced and brushed the moist dirt aside to reveal reflective gold plating. "By the All Spark! It's the casing to the transmitter. No wonder the All Spark stopped transmitting!"

"But how bad is the damage?" Hound wondered worriedly. "Was the entire pod destroyed, or just the transmitter?"

Wheeljack paused, not wanting to think about it. "Don't' know. Keep digging."

They did and within another few minutes they had pulled out a large panel at least four feet high and six feet long. Cybertronian engravings scrolled across the dented and dirtied surface as Hound eagerly brushed it off and turned it over. The components inside were dirtied and damaged beyond repair. What Hound had detected were the unique Cybertronian metals and an emergency signal that had more than lost its power. The tiny indicator light was dull, and their sparks sank.

"Well, guess we know why the pod stopped signaling," Wheeljack muttered and lifted his arm. Metal plating shifted and morphed until a diagnostic tool formed in the place of his hand. A small thin light scanned the components of the damaged transmitter and even repaired a few of them, but to no avail.

"We need to get it back to the Ark," Wheeljack said. "I've got tools there that can help us determine exactly when the pod was struck, and what struck it, but whether the All Spark is alright or not . . ."

"And if it is even in this system," Hound agreed nervously. "The last thing we need is for it to have fallen into this system's sun."

Wheeljack lightly shoved his shoulder. "Don't say that, mech! That'd be the end of us! Besides, we would have felt it if it had, right? I mean, we're all connected to it in some way, whether anybot is religious or not. And nobot is more connected to it than Optimus. He carries the Matrix, after all."

"Maybe, but even he didn't know where it was," Hound argued lightly, standing and turning back the way they had come. He and Wheeljack turned when a large RV drove by and then hurried to meet up with the other Autobots. "Maybe Primus disguised its energies from him to protect it?"

"From Optimus?" Wheeljack queried, incredulous. "You gotta be kidding!"

"No, from Megatron and the Decepticons," Hound amended. "If Optimus knew exactly where it was, I'm sure Megatron would have found out a lot sooner."

"I dunno, maybe," Wheeljack muttered. "Megatron ain't no processor reader."

Both stopped, startled, when nearly a dozen different Autobot voices yelped in unison at the same time the ground trembled lightly from the impact of several huge mechanoid bodies slamming into the ground. The shouts and cries that rose through the early morning air were not the cries of a highly trained war unit, but rather that of a few bumbling, stumbling drunks.

"That didn't sound good," Wheeljack sighed, turning and hurrying towards the disturbance as Hound stored the torn plating in a subspace compartment in his backpack.

"Probably the twins getting into another tussle," Hound mused as he followed. "Those two are more trouble than the Decepticons sometimes."

Wheeljack chuckled, wondering what they might stumble onto.

As soon as Hound and Wheeljack had begun to dig at whatever the older scout had detected, Optimus led the rest of his Autobots up the adjoining hillside to hide among the cluster of trees. They placed their peds with care, so their weight did not cause the soft ground to shift too drastically. Large boulders and stones offered some stability – but not when an Autobot slipped on the unusual surface. This time it was their graceful femme, Arcee, who stumbled on the stones and being nearest to her, Optimus was quick to catch her hand and keep her from falling.

"Thank you, Optimus," she said with a smile and he nodded in reply.

Behind him, Ironhide kept pace with his leader, weapons ready and an anxious scowl on his face plates. The old mech was as stubborn as they came but he was dependable, ridiculously tough and accurate when he fired his large cannons. Few Decepticons were eager to go up against the weapons specialist, even less likely lately. Once he decided to serve as Optimus Prime's bodyguard no one got close to the Prime. He hit almost as hard as Optimus himself and was merciless on the battlefield. Optimus sometimes had to reign the mech in, lest he lost himself to the ancient rage of losing his home to Decepticon treachery.

Sensing his leader's thoughtful gaze, the old red mech glanced up at him and nodded with a small reassuring smile. Optimus nodded back and then turned back to the other Autobots as they looked around or sat on the ground, carefully peering through the trees to observe the world around them. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker appeared curious about the world they had landed on but more than anything they appeared bored and irritated.

Optimus watched Sideswipe pick up a small stone, a mere pebble in his giant digits, and listlessly toss it up and down. Sunstreaker still scratched at the chips in his paint muttering to himself. Jazz was on alert, as was Arcee, Trailbreaker and Bumblebee. Like Ironhide, Ratchet kept close to Optimus while observing the others to ensure no one came to harm. Even a simple fall could potentially damage a limb or a strut. Leave it to Ratchet to think of all the things that could possibly go wrong.

Optimus glanced up the hill where Bumblebee carefully scaled the steep slope. He was as curious as his leader and Optimus was somewhat envious the younger mech could exploit that curiosity. As Prime his duty was to ensure the safety of his Autobots. He could no longer indulge the curiosity of his younger self, the archivist that still wanted to run up these hills, discover this world and speak with the locals to learn about and from them. He also wanted to be with Hound and Wheeljack, digging up whatever clue they had detected which could lead them to the All Spark.

It wasn't as though he was not honored to be chosen as Prime. He was determined to make Primus proud. But sometimes it could be a little lonely.

Even still, he continued to watch Bumblebee, perplexed by the excitement in the younger mech's movements. Eons of experience observing the behavior of other mecha combined with his own innate curiosity told him the young mech had spotted something. Worried that it could jeopardize their position, or worse, cause potential harm to his young scout, he decided to follow. He crouched low as he scaled the steep slope, sometimes stumbling slightly when his weight caused the soft ground to buckle. A friendly arm was always there to help steady him and he nodded his thanks.

Soon enough he had reached his scout who had nearly crested the slope. There were fewer trees here. Strange plants, like grasses suited to deserts, had taken over here. Below them more rolling mountains and hills stretched as far as the optic could see. The sun had completely cleared the horizon now, making their shadows stretch as long as the serpents of Terran-O 7. He had to kneel here, for no matter how tall the trees were they were sparse and the locals could easily spot his impressive metal frame reflecting the sun's brilliance.

"Bumblebee? What did you find?"

The small yellow scout jumped slightly at the sound of his voice and turned to glance at him. "Oh, hey, Prime. I spotted something, is all. Wanted to see what it was."

He stooped to pick something up off the ground and for the first time Optimus noticed the sun's reflected light on a metallic object. It was an alien thing, tiny and strange, not meant for their hands. His curiosity getting the better of him he peered into Bumblebee's hand to better look at the strange object. It was dirty and damaged from heavy rains and whatever else had been thrown at it.

He cocked his head as Bumblebee turned it in his small hands. The object was a device of some kind mostly forged of metal. It was divided into two separate segments of flimsy metal alloys, most likely some form of aluminum. The lower portion of the segment was covered in a strange composite material he did not recognize, but he recognized that it was a handle of some kind. Whatever the material was he surmised it was designed to make grasping the handle easier. The upper segment was supported by at least a dozen struts that branched out at the top, almost like the branches of a tree. Currently they were folded down over the metal shaft, and a strange material was attached to the struts. It seemed to be comprised of plant-based manufactured material, but it was torn and ripped.

As Optimus watched, Bumblebee continued to turn the thing over in his hands, optic ridges furrowed in concentration while Ironhide and Ratchet fidgeted with boredom and worry. "What are you looking for?" the Prime asked his smaller friend.

"A way to open it," Bumblebee replied distractedly. "It obviously opens I mean, these are folded down . . . so where is the . . .?"

"Hey, watcha doin' up here?" Jazz inquired as he crested the ridge. The other Autobots were behind him. Bored and curious about what had drawn the Prime's attention, they peered from whatever angle they could get to stare at the little object in Bumblebee's hands.

"What is it?" Arcee asked curiously, kneeling at Optimus's side as she reached out to pick at the strange material on the metal device.

"Don't touch it!" "Sideswipe exclaimed, startling the femme as he gently pushed her aside.

"Why not?"

"It might be dangerous! We don't know what it is."

"_You_ are dangerous," the femme retorted smartly, and Optimus chuckled.

"Seriously, though, what is that?" Sunstreaker wondered as he joined his twin. "Looks bizarre – and very dirty."

"Looks like it's been sitting in the weather too long," Trailbreaker observed, cocking his head as Bumblebee turned it bottoms-up.

"Looks suspicious," Jazz said nervously, somewhere between thinking Sideswipe was acting overly cautious because a femme was present and thinking he was right. "I mean, what's it used for? How's it open up?"

"I dunno, I just found it," Bumblebee said, clearly perturbed with so many mecha staring over his shoulders. "I saw something metallic reflecting off the trees up here and figured I'd investigate. Kinda scared me a little, really. I was nervous it might have been a Decepticon snare or something."

"A trap?" said Prowl, speaking for the first time in a long while. He had been patrolling the area out of habit and was still on edge, but when was he not?

"Where is a trap?" the enforcer continued, staring around him as though something might jump out at them.

"There's no trap, Prowl," Bumblebee sighed. "Just this . . . thing."

Prowl looked at him and then stepped closer, glimpsing the item. It was long, made of metal and had a strange folded top. He immediately thought grenade.

"Be careful! That could be a grenade!"

Bumblebee stared at him, incredulous. "A grenade? Really, Prowl? Here? We're in the middle of nowhere."

"There's no sense in taking chances," the enforcer retorted hotly.

"I agree we must be cautious," Optimus said in his calming voice, and placed a hand on the anxious enforcer's shoulder. "But I also agree with Bumblebee. The chances a Decepticon may have landed here and randomly placed a grenade in these woods are far too large, especially considering this area is frequented by the locals. It is more likely this device is used locally, though I cannot say I know what it's purpose is."

"A grenade, huh?" Trailbreaker laughed, stooping to poke the thing as Bumblebee held it out for him. "Well that's the strangest looking grenade that I've ever seen in my –"

He shut up straight away as his huge pointer digit nudged the little object in just the right spot. It popped open so suddenly that it bounced on Bumblebee's open palm, forming a circular canopy, like an upside-down bowl. Dust and clumps of dirt sprayed everywhere, and little flaps flailed wildly until they settled on Bumblebee's thumbs.

But that single movement was enough to trigger pandemonium.

"Grenade!" Trailbreaker and Prowl shouted at the same time.

Prowl swiped the thing so hard it sailed through the air and disappeared in the trees. And in a matter of seconds several large Autobots had all leaped at their startled leader, piling atop him with the hope their combined bodies could shield him from the impending blast. Even Bumblebee offered himself as a sacrifice to save Optimus, the last in a long line of noble leaders. All the Autobots expected a massive explosion.

But after a full three klicks, nothing happened.

Nothing at all.

"Umm. . ." Jazz hummed, suddenly feeling very embarrassed as he looked around, wondering why they were still in one piece.

Arcee was the first to separate herself from the clunky pile of limps. "Well, that was certainly impressive. Jumping at nothing. Way to go, guys."

"But someone said it was a grenade," Sunstreaker said sheepishly.

"And yet you jumped right in with the rest of us," Jazz teased, and the yellow mech paused and vented a sigh.

"Yeah, well . . . this close I was good as gone anyway."

"Autobots. I do not mean to interrupt your reverie but . . . would you _please_ let me up now?"

"Oh scrap!" Trailbreaker cried and scrambled out of the way, as did every other Autobot present. Or at least they tried too. Only Jazz, Ironhide, Ratchet and Arcee managed some semblance of calm as they pulled away from their Prime while the rest scrambled and stumbled in a tangle of limbs and metal plating to disentangle themselves from the larger Autobot. Ratchet stepped in to help while Ironhide yelled orders, his exasperation thick in every word.

This is the shouting and fidgeting that Hound and Wheeljack returned to. After scaling the slope all they could do was stop and stare in utter befuddlement as several Autobots lay atop their leader in a clumsy heap. Bumblebee had already disentangled himself as they approached.

"What the scrap is going on?" Wheeljack cried, already laughing at the ridiculous sight before him. A dozen different pairs of optics turned to him, including Optimus's, who was still buried beneath a mound of Autobots.

"Uh," Bumblebee stuttered in embarrassment. "Do you want the long version, or the short?"

Wheeljack put a hand to his helm and laughed as Hound stepped forward and helped Sideswipe disentangle himself from Trailbreaker who in turn pulled Sunstreaker off of Optimus. All at once nearly every Autobot was reaching for their leader, eager to throw off their embarrassment by being the first to help him up. A multitude of apologies tumbled from their mouth plates as they did.

"Apologies, Optimus," said Prowl stiffly, embarrassment obvious in the way his doorwings drooped. "There is no excuse for my behavior. But I did fear it was . . . a grenade, and your safety is paramount."

"Yeah, sorry, Prime," Trailbreaker muttered with a chuckle as he rubbed the back of his black helm. "I thought for sure it was nothing but then – pop! It opened up. And like Prowl said, your safety is important."

"So is yours," the taller warrior intoned as he regarded his warriors, a slight tremor of humor mixing with the disapproval in his voice. "And I commend your quick reactions, unnecessary though they may have been. If it _had_ been a grenade . . . some of us _may_ have survived, but what then?"

Bumblebee sighed dejectedly. "That would be my fault, Prime. My curiosity got the best of me. I could have put everyone in danger!"

"But, you did not," Optimus soothed as he turned to look for the strange device. "Nor do I believe we were ever in any danger. The device was not of Cybertronian construction, and I did not detect any volatile components. Whatever the device is used for, it is most certainly not for blowing up over-zealous mecha."

He grinned at them from behind his battle mask and nervous laughter spilled from the gathered group. "Ya got that right," Jazz laughed, and slapped Optimus on the back as he looked around.

Hound and Wheeljack, who had stopped laughing now, regarded their leader. "What was this all about anyway?"

"Yeah, we didn't bring any grenades," Wheeljack added, glancing at Bumblebee. "What's the story, little buddy?"

Bumblebee sighed and glanced at Prime, who nodded with humor in his optics. In a flush of words, he explained his curious discovery of a small object, and how his curiosity had in turn captured Optimus Prime's curiosity and nearly entombed him in a pile of Autobot limbs. By the time the small scout had finished his narrative Hound was doubled over in laughter. Wheeljack's laughter started anew.

"I gotta see this thing," the inventor said, looking around. "Where'd it end up? Did you squash it?"

"No, one of these gear heads threw it away," Arcee giggled and pointed at the trees. "Landed in there somewhere."

"I might be able to find it," Hound said, and aimed his sonar device into the trees. Almost instantly he located the object in question. It had not gone far, so he pushed his way through the gathered Autobots and squeeze through a pair of small, young trees and picked up the strange device in his thumb and fore-digit. He couldn't believe what he was looking at and laughed anew.

"This is what made you mechs glitch out?" he asked, shaking his head as he turned to rejoin them.

"What is it?" Wheeljack asked, already reaching out to take it as Hound dropped it in his palm. "Hmm… doesn't look anything like a grenade. What's it supposed to do, I wonder?"

Bumblebee and Optims shrugged. "No idea," the larger Autobot intoned.

"Hey! What the heck happened here!?"

The Autobots turned, on alert, and crouched below the rim of the trees. The shout had come from below.

"Uh-oh, I think someone found our little excavation site," Wheeljack stated and turned to Optimus. "I suggest we clear out of here as quickly and carefully as we can."

"What about scanning new alt-modes?" Arcee asked.

"I do not believe that is a possibility now," Optimus said and glanced around him. "Autobots, withdraw."

"And try not to make any more noise," Ratchet griped as he moved over the ridge and then darted left, careful to use the trees for cover. "It's amazing none of the natives have spotted us already with your foolishness."

"I'll keep a hang on this," Wheeljack said, putting the small object Bumblebee had discovered in a small subspace compartment in his chassis. "Might be able to learn what it is a little later."

"Fine, just move it!" Jazz said, pushing the inventor towards the trees as their audio sensors caught the sound of tiny footsteps rushing through the underbrush in the ravine below them. Optimus, Ironhide and Jazz waited as the Autobots rushed into the forest, their great forms causing the trees to jolt and sway regardless of how careful they tried to be. Optimus pushed Ironhide through and then entered backwards, his curiosity peeked. He ducked behind a large pine as a small human being appeared below. It wore strange garments like many of the organic species he had encountered in his long journey through the stars. It also wore a cap on its head and appeared unnerved. He observed the tiny being a moment longer before disappearing in the trees and did not see the human male rush up the slope and stare in confused astonishment at the impression made in the earth when the Autobots piled atop their leader.

Star Date -315017.0647513953

[January 25th, 2007]

Prime's Log, Supplemental

The changing of the seasons is a phenomenon on organic worlds I still find wonderfully exotic. Cybertron never truly had seasons, save in the cooler polar regions. Even Iacon, now that I recall, was always cooler than most other cities due to its geographic position near the north pole. Kaon, one of our world's most prominent industrial states, was warmer. It is situated near the equator on the opposite side of the planet, its air polluted from the mining and manufacturing known to keep our world running. Yet still, neither city saw dramatic seasonal shifts beyond the occasional thunderstorm. Earth, however, often sees more than mere thunderstorms.

Ironically enough, it was the thunderstorms that provided our first clue to the purpose of the strange device Bumblebee happened upon during our first visit to the Earth's surface. I still laugh to myself about how ridiculous it all was. Something so simple and it frightened some of the toughest warriors I have ever had the pleasure of serving. Still, the clue was a broadcast from one of the local cities we received while in orbit that detailed the use of these strange devices. We observed humans rushing to their meeting places carrying these things above their heads, the canopies spread wide to dispel the falling rain. At first, I doubt the Autobots believed something so simple could have such a purpose. Some still argue it is used for something much more important. Arcee argued staying dry is important, even if humans do not need to worry about rust infections.

Since those first days on earth, many other questions have been answered. The first being the position of the All Spark and why it had ceased to transmit. Hound had discovered the panel and transmitter buried in the rock and earth not far from the dwelling we spied from the ravine. It was damaged, possibly by interstellar debris, the leftovers of passing comets or asteroids. There is evidence to suggest that more pieces of the pod carrying the All Spark had fallen alongside the panel, possibly during reentry, but did not survive the event.

As for the All Spark, it is safe – for the moment. It was a string of fortunate events that allowed us to learn its location. If not for our new allies it would have been impossible. These allies have given us a purpose on this world and have vowed to help us defend this planet from the Decepticons whilst we strive to find a way of safely returning the All Spark to Cybertron. I know that Megatron will never stop hunting for it, that he will never stop hunting for me. But I will meet him always and do my best to frustrate his goals, for my sake, my people's sake, and the sake of this and any other planet.

I pray that Primus will help in this endeavor. I pray that my Autobots and our allies can find a way to use a proverbial umbrella – for that is indeed the designation given to the device my scout discovered – to shield us from the coming storms, and they will be severe. I pray we may all live with honor and integrity.

I pray also that when I pass, those who read these writings will take my experiences, and the experiences of my Autobots, to spark. Though much of this account is fairly light-sparked, the toils of war are not. Live well, and live right.

Till All Are One.

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